


Kill Me After

by destielvestiges (SaraWeasley101)



Series: Open Ended or On Hold Indefinitely [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cas!kidnapper, Dean!kidnapped, M/M, Smut, Swearing, suicidal!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 23:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5182913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraWeasley101/pseuds/destielvestiges
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hates Manhattan, but not more than he hates his own life. Between his boring banking job, his ignorant family and his tasteless affair with a married man, no one wondered why one day he ended up on the top of a building. However, nobody expected the bank to be robbed at the same time and for Dean Winchester to be abducted by Castiel Novak. Dean, instead of freaking out, decides to bargain with his kidnapper, making him promise to kill him as soon as this whole story comes to an end.<br/>_______________________________<br/>Based on the movie of the same title. I borrowed the main arc, the rest of the story, excluding the characters, is mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kill Me After

**Author's Note:**

> *The ratings are subjects of changes in further chapters.

 

**Two Days Before**

Dean woke up on the floor in a messy motel room at 8 am. His breath smelled like whiskey, and he was still dressed in his dirty clothes from last night. His first thought was: coffee. He stood up and looked around him, but stopped immediately because it was just too damn depressing. He sat down on his bed and contemplated the idea of drowning himself in the bathtub. After a good half an hour of self depreciation, he realized he was late for work and walked out the door.

He walked slowly, looking at every car passing on the street. Jump? or no jump? But before he could choose, he arrived at the bank where he worked. He climbed the stairs, turned left and walked down the hallway until he found his desk. He sat down. He sighed. He allowed loans as a living. He hated it. His first clients were a couple, the wife was pregnant, and they needed a loan to buy a house. They both had stable jobs, and were clearly qualified. But Dean just wasn’t in the mood. He was so obnoxious with them. It was the day Dean Winchester made a pregnant lady cry. And her husband too. He sighed again. The rest of the day was a blur. The next thing he knows, he’s back in his silly motel room. The whiskey bottle emptied, he threw it at the wall. He filled the bathtub and got in fully dressed. He took a deep breath, and submerged his whole body. 1…. 2…. 3…. 4…. 5….6… 7… 8… 9… 10… 11….12….13….14….15….16… 17… 18… 19… 20.. He abruptly sat and breathed in. He sighed. He got out of the tub and undressed himself. Once he was completely dried, he took his cellphone and composed a familiar number.

‘’- Hey, Dad?

-sshhh little Sammy…

-Dad?

-Yes, Dean? I’m a little busy here.

-I’m sorry, it’s just-

-Dean, is this important? Your baby brother won’t fall asleep and your mother is gone to dinner with her friends, and-

-But dad,

-I’ve got to go.

-Bye...’’

He threw his phone across the room and it landed next to the remains of the whiskey bottle. He wanted to scream but he was way too exhausted for anything. He fell asleep on the floor, naked.

 

**One Day Before**

Dean woke up on the floor in a messy motel room at 8 am. His breath smelled like whiskey, and he was still naked from last night. His first thought was: coffee. He stood up and looked around him, but stopped immediately because it was just too damn depressing. He sat down on his bed and contemplated the idea of drowning himself in the bathtub. After a good half an hour of self depreciation, he realized he was late for work and walked out the door.

He walked slowly, looking at every car passing on the street. Jump? or no jump? But before he could choose, he arrived at the bank where he worked. He climbed the stairs, turned left and walked down the hallway until he found his desk. He sat down. He sighed. He allowed loans as a living. He hated it. His first client missed their appointment. He sighed. He took his cellphone at dialed 2.

``-Hi, Graham speaking.

-Graham, it’s Dean.

-Oh, hi. Listen, I’m a little busy right now, want to talk after? How about meeting at the restaurant in front of your flat?

-That crappy place?

-It’s not crappy. They serve pretty good salad.

-Salad? Are you kidding me?

-Alright, I’ll see you later, okay?

-Fine. See you.’’

The rest of the day was a blur. The next thing he knows, he’s sitting at a table of a restaurant he didn’t even like, waiting for a man he was 80% sure wasn’t coming. He ordered a hamburger, not bothering with waiting for Graham.

The man came in late, Dean had finished his meal a long while ago.

‘’-Hey. Sorry, I’m sorry, Donna wanted me to stay for dinner, we had her parents over with her ex-husband, it was so messy, I’m not telling you,-

-Well, you are.

\- Wow, you’re grumpy today babe.

-Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get out of here.’’

They didn’t even wait for the motel room door to be closed before aggressively starting to strip each other out of their clothes. They didn’t kiss, but it was all hands. All grasping and tearing and forceful. Dean threw Graham on the bed and startled him. They fucked hard, making the bed hit the wall with every thrusts. When Graham anything came he pushed Dean off of him and got out of bed. Dean wanted to scream but he was way too exhausted for . He fell asleep on the bed, naked.

 

 

**The Long Long Day Dean Winchester Got Kidnapped (Part One)**

Dean woke up on the bed of a messy motel room at 8 am. His breath smelled like whiskey, and he was still naked from last night. His first thought was: coffee. He stood up and looked around him, but stopped immediately because it was just too damn depressing. He sat down on his bed and contemplated the idea of drowning himself in the bathtub. After a good half an hour of self depreciation, he realized he was late for work and walked out the door.

He walked slowly, looking at every car passing on the street. Jump? or no jump? But before he could choose, he arrived at the bank where he worked. He climbed the stairs, turned left and walked down the hallway until he found his desk. He sat down. He sighed. He allowed loans as a living. He hated it. His first client was supposed to arrive soon, but he couldn’t handle it anymore. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and grabbed his well-guarded bottle of Sierra Tequila Silver. He opened it and took a big sip, having a hard time swallowing it. He left his chair, found the stairs and climbed them until there were none left. He opened the door in front of him, which led to the roof. Perfect.

He could see almost the whole of Manhattan from the border of the building where he was standing. My God, it was ugly. Everything was grey, boring. All the same buildings, over and over. He hated this city. He hated New York. Every time he thought about it, he wanted to set it on fire, starting with his apartment, with him inside of it. He heard screaming, back there, in the pit, in the street. Someone probably saw him by now, and called the police, because there was agitation, an ambulance, people running around. Was he going to jump? He knew some people out there definitely would want him to. He looked down, and besides firefighters deploying some sort of big mattress for him to fall on, he saw two guys running out the front door of the bank. They were wearing black hoodies and were holding three huge bags. A robbery? A fucking robbery? Was the world mocking him? He should jump right now. He took a sip, and spat in the direction of the firefighters. He looked back down just in time to see one of the burglars get shot. right in the chest. The other one threw two bags in the backseat of a green car. He was about to get in, when the car left. The guy still standing in front of the bank went back inside as fast as he could. Dean laughed in a threatening hilarity. He drank from his bottle. He started walking on the side of the rooftop, resembling a tightrope walker. He was at his third lap when the door he came through before swung open, a man in a black hoodie running through.


End file.
